In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday Continues to be Too Distracted to Think Properly.

Yep.  I know it's getting old.  But next week I'll feel more comfortable (maybe?) and I'll be able to talk about the book I'm reading now (maybe?) and how much I'm in love with Parks and Recreation (I really should finish the second season before I make any grand pronouncements).

In the meantime, just in case you thought I forgot all about Cougar Town (well, I haven't talked about it in like, a day), I give you another Lady Liberty YouTube find, this one illuminating Laurie's coffee buying habits.  Damn, Busy Phillips is a rock star at memorization.



Have a lovely holiday (if you're celebrating), and a lovely long weekend (if you're celebrating or not).  Scout Camp is changing locations this weekend, so Monday Menu Mayhem will probably involve locating pots and pans.  Stay tuned for the excitement.

In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday is Avoiding You

Another product of the glorious Lady Liberty Weekend is the new videos she exposed us to.  You see, law students have plenty of time to do things like explore YouTube, because they spend so much of their time procrastinating.

At least, in my limited experience, this generalization is very, very true.

So behold, a Lady Liberty endorsed video that keeps giving me asthma attacks because I am laughing so hard.  And also makes me seriously ponder the best person to do this to.

In Which Monday Menu Mayhem Works Well With Others

What an exciting weekend this was, friends.

That most elegant of elegant ladies, the lovely Dame de Laliberte came to Scout Camp to shake things up (and to help me deal with a dangerous overabundance of chardonnay).  As a result of this meeting of the minds (and the Cougar Town lovefest that followed) the Menu was not only Mayhemic, but chock-a-block filled with Nigella goodness.

Saturday tea (yes, dammit, we had tea... followed by apéritifs, natch) began with Pigs in a Blanket, which Nigella called Franks and Blanks, and so they shall henceforth be known.  Behold:

The awesomesauce of this recipe is indeed... awesome sauce.  The recipe didn't call for exactly equal parts dijon mustard, honey mustard, and sour cream, but that's what it ended up with.  I liked the puff pastry blankets, too (as opposed to the more biscuit-y blankets of my youth)-- they were light and crunchy and they hit the spot.

Cocktails (kir royales, duh) were followed by a simply superb meal of Nigella's Taragon Chicken, and Lady Lib's own home-made, hand cut pasta, and grilled asparagus:

In this one you brown the chicken and some scallions in the pan, and then cook them in vermouth and taragon in the oven.  Add some cream at the end to form a nice sauce, and you're good to go.  I have to say that I'm not normally a fan of taragon (no licorice for me, thanks), but the flavors in this dish simply cannot be denied.

And honestly, I never thought it could be so easy to make pasta.  Sure it's a long process, but my goodness, the results are well worth it.

(Those curious will note that I made the chicken, La Lalib made the pasta, and Boy Scout grilled the asparagus.  TEAM WORK, PEOPLE)

And so I thank you, my darling Lady Liberty, for shedding your light on our humble kitchen, and for leaving it a better (if messier) place than it had been before.

I'm just kidding.  It's always that messy.

In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday Goes to Town

That title is a really bad pun.

By now you might (should?) be familiar with my show-watching habits, but let me summarize: I don't watch new shows.  I don't like getting invested in anything that starts airing in September and might not be around in October.  Not to mention the fact that pilots can be insanely awkward and broad, because writers and actors can't get a sense of what a show will become in the span of 22 minutes and a limited budget.

I like to see how things progress.

And I really like to hear what other people have to say.  I talk to my friends (sometimes I should listen to them and take action way sooner... Morrow/Morris girls, I'm looking at you).  I read Facebook Newsfeed statii re: shows others are obsessed with.  I also read Michael Ausiello.

Ausiello and I have been through a lot together.  I'm now reading (on TVLine) the third incarnation of the legendary Ask Ausiello, and considering the fact that I am still in possession of my original TVGuide Ask Ausiello TShirt, I would say I'm a genuine Aushole (this can be taken as either a compliment or an insult, depending on the day or the time).

Aus has never failed me when it comes to show recommending, though I admit Chuck was not nearly as enthralling as I wanted it to be.

OMG WHEN WILL I GET TO THE POINT??

Dear Michael has been talking of little else than Cougar Town.  OK.  That's a lie.  But it's definitely on his "I'mobsessedwiththisshowandeveryoneelseneedstobetoo" list.

And now it's on mine.

This obsession is about 3 weeks long now, starting with the purchase (and subsequent marathon) of season one followed closely by the iTunes season pass purchase (and subsequent marathon) of season two.

Boy Scout and La Dame Laliberte are also hooked thanks to my rantings and ravings.  And also my insistently putting it in front of them all the time.

Cougar Town sounds awful (really awful), but it's not: Courteney Cox's Jules Cobb is a real estate agent who finds herself aged 40, divorced, and about to send her only son off to college.  What's a red wine drinkin' gal to do?  Settle in with a motley crue of best friend neighbors, crazy white trash assistant, and semi-normal (but also really weird) divorcé across-the-street-neighbor.  Hijinks ensue.  And with all of these crazy big personalities running around, there are hijinks aplenty.

The first few eps are indeed awkward: you can tell watching that the showrunners were trying to find the correct tone.  For a little bit, the show is exactly what the title indicates, and that is a tale about a sexy middle-aged woman dating younger men in order to recapture her youth.

What the show evolves in to, though, is an absolutely hilarious examination of family, friends, and relationships.  With wine.

La Lalib and I have developed a new philosophical stance: WWJAED, which means What Would Jules and Ellie (her best friend) Do?  I plan on living the rest of my life with these guidelines.

Let the magic begin!

So, one day, Kate Jones gives me this Zoe Archer book and says, "Momma, you HAVE to read this!" I put the book on my bedside table and promised to get to it as soon as I finished whatever I happened to be reading at that moment. The problem was that I was reading something on my beloved Kindle. When you read from a Kindle, you are never really ever finished! It's the book that just keeps on writing! Then Lady Liberty comes to visit. She sees the book on my bedside table and asks me how far I have gotten because she's slated to read it next. Um, I am on page 14! I distract with a discussion on the awesomeness of the Kindle and I whet Lady Liberty's suppressed appetite for e-books! Within hours - I am the grateful recipient of the whole Zoe Archer Blades of the Roses bundle... on Kindle! My 50th birthday gift from Lady Liberty.(She really wants to read the books and is tired of waiting for me to put the Kindle down.)So now I have been asked to write a skeptic's review of the Blade of the Roses series. Kate wanted me to review the first book - but Kate knows I am hopeless at remembering one book once I have started another - so I offer a compendium of the four.

I have to say, if the books were not on my Kindle, I would still be on page 14 and still putting off the reading of them. Kate warned me (and she knew I needed warning) that the books were historical romances - I'm in so far - and involved some, "magic." This is me back-peddling. Um - yeah, NO! "Just read the first one, Momma, I promise you will love it." SIGH (of major magnitude!)Okay, and now they are on the Kindle - so no more excuses!

The characters in these books are fantastic. I cannot emphasize, enough, how much I enjoyed meeting them, getting to know them and caring about them. Their relationships with their romantic partners are so well developed and their relationships with each other are strong and believable. The historical aspects are well plotted and fascinating. I was in Mongolia, Greece, Canada, and England, learning things I didn't know and remembering things I did. I cheered the heroes, cursed the villains, and held my breath as battles of enormous magnitude threatened my main characters!

So, you ask, what's with the skepticism? It was the whole "magic" thing. I am not a fantasy reader and I am not in the least bit interested in Vampire stories. My reluctance in getting past page 14 was the magical appearance of some metal beetles attacking someone and drilling holes in a concrete wall. In the end, Zoe Archer had me completely committing myself to faeries, pixies, the Colossus of Rhodes, people who can change into wolves, bears and hawks, transporting ones self through fire, King Arthur (and Merlin.) There were the magic fish which enabled some of our heroes to breath under water, there were ancient compasses with the technology of modern day GPS systems, and there were spells and potions. The author had so perfectly developed the characters and the conflicts that the hows and the whos didn't matter to me at all. The only thing I cared about was how it was all going to resolve itself. The magical individuals who came out of the woods (and there were a lot of woods) became as believable and important as the "real people." Nothing was off the table. Inventions and science played their parts, but it was the magic that saved the day. And love. Let's not forget that! Because everyone gets a happy ever after to make the deepest cynic sigh. And you believe!

So, thanks Kate - for helping me to expand my horizons into a comfortable realm of fantasy. Thank you Lady Liberty - for feeding my Kindle hunger and for taking away the last hurdle of my excuses. Go out and buy, beg for or borrow Zoe Archer's Blades of the Roses quartet and prepare to sit back, be mystified, horrified, mesmerized and taken up in the magic that she has created for you! I know I was!

Wow. Talk About a Throw-Down.

For those who missed it, here is La Laliberte's scathing challenge, issued in response to my Heartless post:

You may chide my trash ignorance, but I assumed that was something of an epidemic, not only within one author's "oeuvre", shall we say, but even spilling over into others. For example, how many romances have I read? Two. You probably even know which ones, I'll give you a second to think. Yes, you're right. All the Queen's Men by Linda Howard and Julie Garwood's The Prize. Now, imagine my surprise when I go to pick up Judith McNaught's Kingdom of Dreams that you left with Aley and all of a sudden the noble Royce has reappeared in all his hunky-hairy-dark-age-hero glory! And he what? Somehow convinces the daughter of his enemy to love him and have steamy sex with him, etc?? Or at least, I would assume that's what happened... I stopped reading after I learned that Nicolaa (pronounced Nee-co-LAAAHHH) had somehow turned into her '80s counterpart... Jennifer. (Jennifer? Really?) So please, give me a good one or I'll give up on the whole genre. In fact, can I offer a discussion topic? THE BOOK you would recommend to convert a neophyte into a romance lover--and don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed The Prize and even All the Queen's Men, but now I need guidance. Help.

Oh, my dearest, darling Lady Liberty. How thrilled we are that you emerged from the Food Service cave to taunt us.

To begin I have to plead no contest to the charge that the first two historical romances you read had heroes named Royce. Not going to explain it, not going to excuse it, just going to say that it is an unfortunate coincidence.

And now on to the indictment of sameness.

I think the main problem is that you are reading the evolution of the genre backwards. (Say WHAT?!) OK, so here's the thing: Judith McNaught, at the time A Kingdom of Dreams was published (circa 1989) was working off of existing themes and, believe it or not, moving them forward. By a couple of inches.

So Judith McNaught is, for lack of a better term, the dinosaur. She's the one you're supposed to read the first time, when you have no idea what the genre is about. And right about the time you realize that all of the stories have the same structure, you find Julie Garwood, and you are so frakking relieved that the relationship is no longer the central conflict that you do a little happy dance. And by the time you think it's time to read about "real" characters in a more modern setting, you move on to Linda Howard.

In other words yes, you did the whole thing backwards.

Now I'm not saying that that makes McNaught obsolete (or that it excuses Garwood's inexplicable move into bland modern suspense). Those of us who popped our romance cherries on them can still look back with some fondness, the way you look back with fondness on high school-- skipping over the bad parts mostly, and really really remembering the good times with nostalgia (McNaught's Double Standards, which I would never recommend to anyone, will remain on my keeper shelf forever).

There is an element of sameness in the genre, but it is not something that should be confused with lack of imagination by certain writers. Sorry, but the new definition of romance involves two people who are perfect for each other, and the fact that come hell or high-water, there will be a happy ending.

That in no way precludes interesting characters, plot scenarios, or outside the box thinking as to how exactly they are going to get there, which can be messy as hell.

And to be honest, even the whole virgin thing is out out out in modern romances, unless you can come up with a not-unreasonable explanation for a 28-year-old who has never had sex. Like, a real, rational reason.

On to recommendations for beginners.

I am going to maintain that ANY Julie Garwood is the perfect introduction for beginners in historical. There are only maybe three of hers that I am not completely enamored of, and they are wonderful without being overly dense. Moderns? Erin McCarthy seems to be kicking ass and taking names, especially in the real-world-not-all-the-same-scenario realm (and Lisa Kleypas, the mastress of sweet historicals has progressed herself into some seriously yummy contemps).

For me and paranormals, if you're not reading Kresley Cole, you're not living. Like, for reals.

OK, Mme Laliberte, the challenge is now to you. Name the genre you'd like, and I'll get you a title.

(And you can read it in the car with me on the way to Utah. WAHOO!)